Rise Against
by MetaKnightRoxMySox
Summary: Mortal enemies. A chance encounter. An unlikely choice. Can they survive to see a brighter future? UPDATE: This story isn't or canceled or anything, it's just that I'm having freshman-year-of-college induced writer's block, plus my muse has shifted. I honestly can't believe that it's been over a year since I've updated. Hopefully I'll see you soon. -TEMPORARY HIATUS-
1. Chapter 1

Pain. Nothing but pain. Nothing but blackness in a cold, hard cell.

His friends were all dead, brutally killed. He had nothing left but his own life. They would take that too.

His whole body ached, right down to his bones. It especially hurt where the electric whip had broken skin. The crude bandage placed on the wound did nothing to help ease the pain. The blood had dried and caked onto his back. A few droplets still dripped to the floor.

He didn't know how much time had passed, how long he had laid there in the dark. He listened to his heartbeat, trying to keep his eyes open as he thought.

No matter how much they had tortured him, they couldn't get him to reveal his wings. They eventually assumed that he had none. They were the only pride he had left, and he wouldn't give them up without a fight.

He wouldn't give up his life without a fight. A fight. That's exactly what they wanted. A fight. That's why they hadn't killed him with the rest. He had fought the hardest of all. And he would die for it.

They would put him in the arena tomorrow and pit him against some monstrous demon beast, or perhaps a traitor to the cause. They'd weakened him so that he could hardly defend himself. He knew how it would go. He would have his armor and his sword. Even if he won, they would send in more opponents until he was killed. Nobody could or would help him.

He knew it all, but he could do nothing about it.

The door opened. His time had come.


	2. Chapter 2

A hand grabbed him and dragged him limp across the floor. "You're worthless, Kirbite," a cold voice whispered in his ear. "Get up and meet your death." The hand let him go. He lay still for a few seconds, then weakly tried to stand. He collapsed, then tried again. He thought that he wouldn't be able to stand, but somehow managed it.

"Good, good. You'll put up a fight yet," the voice said. He looked up at the tall man looming over him, and what he saw chilled his blood. He found himself looking into the face of hatred. The man had a pale, almost delicate face, his smile showing perfect white teeth. The eyes, clear and colorless, held all the contempt in the world. The man seemed to be satisfied that he was almost five feet taller than his prey. The smile widened, obviously seeing the fear in the Kirbite's eyes. It took all of his will to return the cold gaze as the man stood there for some time, scrutinizing him.

The man spoke again. "As I thought. Your will is too strong for me to turn you into a demon beast. You'll just have to help me test my newest creation instead." The Kirbite could feel his heart pound even harder in his chest, for he knew now who this man was. Nightmare!

Nightmare cocked his head like a questioning dog, smiling evilly. He suddenly lashed out and knocked the poor Kirbite down, forcing him to stand up again. The Kirbite looked up with hatred, but shuddered when Nightmare merely laughed.

"I'd love to stay, but I have other business to attend to. Make sure he puts his armor on, then take him to the arena." Nightmare turned and began to walk out, then stopped and spoke to the Kirbite. " I'm sure you'll make a nice snack for 56934TWG17."

As soon as Nightmare had gone, a demon beast guard stepped forward and put down the Kirbite's armor on the floor in front of him. "Put it on!" it commanded. The Kirbite obliged, even though all the bending and twisting was causing him a lot of pain. He did it slowly, mentally prepping himself for his own death.

When he was done, the demon beast guards tied his hands together behind his back, then grabbed his shoulders and led him out the door. The hallway was dimly lit, the floors dirty and littered with trash. Blood had stained the walls. The Kirbite walked slowly, trying not to wince whenever one of the demon beasts jostled him. After what felt like an eternity, they had reached a large set of double doors. A demon beast standing guard there let them through.

The Kirbite blinked and squinted against the harsh light. His ears were suddenly bombarded by the roars of the thousands of demon beasts that had come to watch the fight. Once they were out in the open, the guards untied his hands. One of them pushed him to the ground and cruelly ripped the dirty bandage off of his back. He couldn't help but cry out. His pain was met with nothing but snickers and gleeful laughs. He forced himself to get up. He was handed his sword; he felt the adrenaline begin to pump at the feel of his familiar blade.

He looked around, trying to estimate the number of demon beasts in the room. There were too many to count, seated on benches that went all around the arena. Higher up, on a gilded throne, sat Nightmare. He eyed the Kirbite, then stood up and announced to the entire arena, "It is now time for today's fight." He was met by cheering. "Today we test 56934TWG17's abilities against this insignificant little ball of space dust. Come out now, 56934TWG17! Come defeat your first knight!"

The double doors on the other side of the arena opened. The Kirbite tightened his grip on the sword as he stared into the beast's yellow eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

The demon beast slowly stepped out from the shadow of the doorway. It never took its eyes off of the Kirbite. The Kirbite did the same, his heart pounding with both fear and excitement.

The demon beast was a slender purple dragon with a long, elegant tail. It didn't have any spines or spikes, but it did have huge wings folded tightly to its back. Two large fangs jutted out from the sides of its mouth. Its fingers and toes ended in sharp claws. The Kirbite knew that it must have some sort of special power, or else it would have had more weapons than just claws and teeth. He was genuinely surprised by how quiet it was. It wasn't snarling or hissing or even trying to intimidate him in some way. He realized that it was being cautious, biding its time, analyzing.

He was analyzing it too. They slowly circled each other, yellow eyes meeting yellow eyes. The dragon suddenly barred its teeth and attacked. The knight dodged the bite with astonishing speed, considering his injuries. He didn't feel the pain anymore thanks to the adrenaline rush.

The dragon seemed surprised, but then shook it off and circled again. This time, he was the one who attacked. He lunged forward in a stab, but the dragon had gotten out of the way with even more speed than he had. It slammed him in the face with its tail, causing him to stagger back a few steps. He wasn't fazed, and attacked again, more carefully this time.

The two met in a whirling clash of dodges, stabs, and slashes. It seemed that neither could injure the other. This went on for some time, until the knight had begun to hurt again. He had the chilling realization that the demon beast had been toying with him all along. He had to keep going! But he couldn't.

His energy suddenly gone, the Kirbite felt the exhaustion and pain bear down on him all at once. The sword fell from his trembling hand with a clang. He slowly collapsed forward, his face turned away from the ground.

He tried to keep his eyes open as the blackness rushed in. He looked up to see the demon beast standing next to him, its shadow falling over him. Nightmare's cold voice rang out across the stadium. "Finish it."

The demon beast opened its jaws and charged up a fireball. The Kirbite couldn't stay conscious any longer. The last thing he heard was an explosion.


	4. Chapter 4

She didn't know why she did it, or even how.  
She only knew that he didn't deserve to die.

* * *

Lying on the floor of her room, she thought about the upcoming fight. This was going to be the first true test of her abilities. Anticipation welled up inside of her. After all, she had been told that she was the strongest one of her kind yet.

A group of Galaxy Soldiers had recently arrived about 60 miles away and several demon beasts had been sent to destroy them. They had been successful and had brought back one warrior, the strongest of the group. This was the one she was going to fight. They said that he was so strong that it was necessary to weaken him before the battle.

What would it be like, to fight tooth and claw against sword? She had fought mechanical knights and shape-shifting demon beasts before, but this was the real thing. Real life or death. The tip of her tail twitched back and forth as she gathered her experience and assembled a basic strategy. If they were going to weaken him first, then the best thing to do would be to tire him out and then deliver the final blow. Yes, this would be a good fight.

Just then, someone opened the door. She squinted against the sudden flash of light. Nightmare entered the room, his hands behind his back and his manner serious. "Get ready, 56934TWG17. I want this to be an excellent fight today. If you do well, I just might give you a real demon beast name. Keep this in mind. If you fall, I cannot resurrect you." He fell silent for a few seconds, then continued. "You'll be entering from the north door this time. Do not disappoint me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go prepare our... guest." With a small flourish, Nightmare turned and walked away with a brisk pace.

She stood and walked down the hallway opposite from the way her master had gone. She eyed the other passing demon beasts and the blood stains on the wall. When she came to the arena door, she nodded to the demon beast standing there and settled herself down to wait. Her tail was twitching again and her claws were tapping against the door in impatience. She was too excited to sit still. She had no doubt that she would win, but would she do well enough to receive a name and become one of the master's prize monsters?

Surely they must be ready for her by now! She was ready to burst with all the energy flowing through her. She just wanted to tear through the door and destroy whatever it was they placed in front of her. She knew that she had to be careful, but still. She decided to put her ear against the door and listen. She could hear the cheering, growling, and snarling of the attending demon beasts, but not much else. Suddenly, there came a strange sound of a kind that she didn't recognize. It elicited even more cheers from the crowd, but it was new to her. She stilled herself and thought hard. It was a sound of pain, that much she could figure out. It wasn't a growl or a hiss or any other pain sound that she was familiar with. She decided that it was a cry of pain, a sound that the master had said was good to cause.

Her curiosity aroused, she pressed herself against the door. She heard her master's voice announcing the fight. "It is now time for today's fight." He paused to let the crowd roar. "Today we test 56934TWG17's abilities against this insignificant ball of space dust. Come out now, 56934TWG17! Come defeat your first knight!" Her excitement suddenly turned to seriousness, she slowly and cautiously opened the door and stepped into the light.


	5. Chapter 5

She was assaulted by the incredibly loud roaring of the crowd. She stood still to let her eyes adjust to the light and then stepped forward, her nostrils flaring as she scented the air. She could smell sweat and blood and something else. She knew that this wasn't demon beast blood. It belonged to the owner of that mysterious scent, her opponent, the knight.

This thought process happened in mere seconds as she looked for the warrior that was strongest of all. Her eyes found him and she couldn't believe. The knight stood there, just barely over two feet tall, a glittering sword clenched tightly in his hand. The sheer reality of him was astonishing!

He wore the armor typically worn by Galaxy Soldier warriors; spaulders and a mask that covered his entire face. They were a light gray color. In addition, he wore white gloves and a blue cape. It matched the dark blue color of his skin and went well with the purple of his feet.

She took in his appearance, trying to imprint it upon her memory. The mask was the most important to know because each knight wore a different one. There were four small spikes spaced evenly along the top and not much else. Then she looked to the V-shaped hole in the mask and met his blazing yellow eyes.

Her mind froze for a split second, unable to take in what was there in his eyes. So many different things! Pain she had known would be there. The smell of his blood was heavy in the air, making it quite clear that he was injured. Fear, though not as much as she had expected. The most astonishing thing of all was the iron will conveyed through his gaze. "I will not give up. No matter what you do to me, no matter how many ways you find to hurt me, I will not give up. I know that I'm going to die, and I know that you're going to kill me, but I will not give up. I will fight to my final breath. I will fight as hard as I can and I will die valiantly. I won't ever give in." That was the message, loud and clear. That, even though he was afraid, even though he knew just how futile it was, he would fight.

For a moment, she found herself admiring him. Then her mind broke out of its frozen state and she stepped forward and began to circle him. But she didn't break her gaze, couldn't break it. He didn't break it either, but circled with her. She was hardly conscious of their movements, absorbed as she was with the turmoil of his emotions.

Just then, she realized that she had become distracted, and distractions were fatal. She had to focus on winning! She wrenched her eyes away from his and attacked. Surprisingly, her teeth snapped shut on thin air. The knight had seemingly vanished, but had really only moved a few feet. _He's faster that he looks!_ Surprise flitted through her, but by then they were already circling again. This time, he was the one who lunged forward, sword aimed for a stab. She stepped out of the way, turned, and whacked him in the face with her tail. He merely staggered back a few steps, then ran forward for another attack. _That should have stunned him at least a little!_

The real fight had begun now. She dodged the swings of his sword, occasionally putting in an attack of her own. Her plan was in action now. If she remained mostly defensive, he would wear down faster. Besides, she wanted to learn as much as she could about a real knight's attack style.

Just as suddenly as the fight had begun, the knight froze. She stepped back, cautiously watching. He stood there with pain-filled eyes. She could see that iron will working, trying to get him going again. His entire body was trembling violently. The sword fell from his hand and struck the ground with a sharp clang. He swayed slightly, then fell forward. There was a dull thud and a small cloud of dust rose and fell. Shocked, she slowly stepped towards him until she stood over him. She watched him closely, wary of trickery, but it was clear that he was finished. His eyes shifted slightly, looking up at her. Nightmare's voice rang out. "Finish it."

Reaching down into herself, she willed the fire from her core to come forth. When it rushed up her throat, she held it and willed it into the form of a ball. She tilted her head down and aimed at the knight. For a split second, his golden yellow eyes held hers again. Then they closed as he fell into unconsciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

She hesitated. Had those spirited eyes closed, never to open again? Would she extinguish that inner fire, leaving him forever cold? Would she take away his energy, his emotion? Would she destroy him? She could imagine his remains being thrown away or burned, his outfit kept as a trophy. Something inside of her balked at the thought. A tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind. "_He doesn't deserve it…_"

Suddenly, she made her choice. She released the fireball. The door closest to them exploded, instantly killing the demon beast guard. In one quick motion she bent down, scooped the knight into her arms, and flicked out her tail and grabbed the sword with the end of it. Then she ran.

She jumped over the wreckage of the door and then ran at full speed. Behind her, she could hear Nightmare's roar of outrage. "What? Get them!" All of the attending demon beasts rushed to the door, but the small size of the hole prevented them from flooding out all at once. She glanced back and saw that the first few had caught up. She charged up another fireball and let it fly. Those demon beasts got blown away, but there were plenty more to take their place. She turned back around and tried to focus on navigating through the maze of corridors. She needed to find a way outside so that she could fly. She felt that a demon beast was right behind her and swung the sword, nearly losing her grip on it in the process, and succeeded in chopping it in half.

She turned her head occasionally to breathe fire or let loose a fireball. She also swished her tail to use the sword anytime a demon beast got too close. She turned a corner only to skid to a stop. A swarm of demon beasts were there, waiting for her. The ones in pursuit formed a crowd behind her, snarling and growling. She hadn't wanted to do this due to the knight's close proximity to her, but she had no choice now. She drew together the electrical energy from her veins and directed it to the surface of her scaly skin. Then she let it go in the form of two lightning bolts. The surrounding monsters disintegrated and she ran again. She glanced down at the knight to check that he hadn't been harmed, and then adjusted her grip on him to make sure that she wouldn't drop him.

At last, here was a door that opened to the outside world. It was nighttime and everything was dark and indistinct. She stood in a clearing that surrounded the building. She looked around quickly, trying to find the forms of her enemies against the shadows of a thick stone wall. She had managed to lose the demon beasts after they had cornered her, but they could easily find her again. She started to step forward but froze at the sound of a voice.

"You've betrayed me, 56934TWG17." Nightmare stepped calmly and coolly from the shadows. A low growl rose from her throat. Protectively, she tightened her hold on the knight. Nightmare remained serious, his eyes flickering with rage. "Give up now, beast. Don't make me use force." He paused to let her respond, but she only snarled in defiance. "Insolent fool! If you won't destroy that pitiful creature, then I will, slowly and painfully. After he wakes up of course." A vivid picture flashed through her mind of the knight lying on the floor of a jail cell, awaiting death once again. "I suppose that I'll have to reprogram you. I'll have to take away that free will of yours, though it will make you weaker." He paused. "I'm wondering whether or not I should just kill you, too. It's a shame, really. I thought that you were the best demon beast that I'd ever made. You were going to be my right-hand monster. You were going to be the best, the destroyer, the most fearsome killer alive. But you've given up everything for nothing."

Without warning, Nightmare began to laugh. His body started to swell and his clothes were turning into a cloak of darkness. Icy cold spikes drove themselves into her heart and for the first time she felt afraid. She backed away, gently set the knight down on the ground, and transferred the sword from her tail to her right hand. She was growling again.

By this time, Nightmare had grown into his true, demonic form. Most of him was hidden by the cloak of darkness. His face had become elongated, bearing an long, crooked nose. His teeth were pointed and sharp, and his eyes were covered by a visor filled with stars. He wore two sets of spaulders, a necklace of yellow beads, and a gold helmet. The helmet had three red gemstones set into the middles of three fire-shaped bases and two long, bony horns growing off of the sides. His monstrous body was enveloped with an evil aura.

She sprang into action, spitting red-hot flames at him. They merely bounced off. Dismayed, she tried again with the same result. She landed and thought hard. She didn't dare get close enough to use her claws or teeth or the sword. She could use fire and lightning, but the fire was ineffective and electricity cost a lot of energy to use. There wasn't much that she could do. She gritted her teeth and shivered.

With deceptive speed, Nightmare reached out with a long, skinny, clawed hand. She barely jumped out of the way in time, the ground shattering where she had stood. Knowing that she was defenseless, Nightmare grabbed for her again and again until, finally, he made contact. The claws cut through the skin of the left side of her face. The armored eyelid closed just in time to prevent her eye from being ripped out. She flew back and hit the wall of the building with a resounding boom. She slid down and lay prone on the ground. There was a large impact crater where she had struck.

Her right eyelid fluttered and opened. Nightmare was moving to pick up the knight. She struggled to get up but couldn't. The knight's cry of pain sounded in her ears again and she saw his eyes looking up at her as he fell into unconsciousness. New strength flooded through her and she rose, standing on unsteady feet. The sword was lying nearby and she picked it up, feeling its steady weight in her hand. All the energy in her body gathered at one focal point. She darted forward. Nightmare never saw her coming, considering her disposed of. The sword made contact, the electricity rushing out of the tip as it cut Nightmare's face. He fell, knocked unconscious by the surge of damaging energy.

She landed, faltered, and dropped to one knee. She stood, quivering, and then staggered to the knight. She had to hurry. The demon beasts had to have heard the fight. She picked up the knight, his blue cape fluttering softly in a slight breeze. She held the sword with her tail again, not wanting to accidently stab him with it. She jumped and unfurled her dragon's wings, letting let the wind have them. She flapped and turned in the opposite direction that the door faced. They would probably expect her to go straight out from the exit. She flew around the side of the building and over the wall, gradually gaining height. Beyond the cold gray of the building was a thickly-wooded forest.

When she was satisfied with the change in direction, she dipped down and flew close to the treetops, trying to hide her form. The building grew smaller until it finally disappeared into the distance. Once in a while she changed course to throw off any pursuers. For hours she flew, until her strength gave out. She sank, quickly losing altitude, too tired to do anything but crash land. She turned her shoulder to the dirt and tumbled. The knight slipped from the safety of her arms.

She struggled, standing on her knees and hands. Spit frothed from the corners of her mouth. She wiped it away. Blood poured from the wounds on her face, blinding her. There were assorted scratches all over her body. She wanted so badly to lie down and rest, but she had to make sure that the knight was ok. She crawled to where he lay. He was on his side, his back to her, and she saw the huge blood stain on the cape. She knew that she had to take off the armor in order to see where he was injured. She started with the spaulders. There was a strap on each one that ran under his arm. She loosened them and slid them off. She took off his white gloves. They were stained with dots of red. Then she found where the cape was attached and undid it. It slipped off, silken and wet in her hands. She inhaled sharply. Jagged red cuts crisscrossed on his back. Blood leaked out of them and she was suddenly afraid that he would bleed to death. _This is what they did to him, to weaken him_. She could bind him with the cape, but first she had to take off the mask.

Gingerly, she undid the tie of the strap that ran all the way across his back. She paused, not knowing what his face would look like. She removed the mask. His eyes were closed, his mouth open slightly. There were two pale flushes of pink on his cheeks. He had no nose.

Without the armor, he was just a blue ball with two arms and two purple feet. He didn't look the least bit threatening. He was cute, adorable even. She felt bewildered. _How could something so cute be so strong?_ She knew appearances could be deceiving, but this was startling.

She got back on track, wrapping the cape over the wounds as tightly as she could, trying to stay clear of his mouth so that he could breathe. She laid down, right where she was, and drew him close to her. She lifted one wing and stretched it over him, creating a make-shift tent.

The sun had just begun to rise. She felt utterly exhausted and the left side of her face hurt terribly. Unconsciousness was swiftly bearing down on her. _I guess this is how he felt_. Then she closed her good eye and slept.


	7. Chapter 7

He slowly opened his eyes. It was dark and whatever it was he was seeing was hazy. '_Where am I? … Am I dead?_'

He blinked, trying to clear the fog, but it didn't work. He instinctively stayed still, listening to the quiet inhalation and exhalation of his breathing. He was mutely aware of the numbness. Everything was peaceful.

Gradually, feeling crept back. His vision cleared a little. He started to remember bits and pieces of things. He remembered fear, desperation, drops of crimson liquid, and evil, laughing eyes. He remembered pain, so much pain, both physical and emotional. He felt some of that pain now. It crawled across his back, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He wondered why, if he was dead, he could still feel it. Then he realized that maybe he wasn't dead. It took a moment longer for him to question why not.

Dimly, his senses awakened and he could perceive more and more things. There was still mist in front of his eyes but colors and shapes were beginning to stand out. '_Are those… trees?_' He could hear the far-away sound of crickets chirping. His throat was sickeningly dry and there was a bitter taste on his tongue. Everything was coming back to him now. The torture chamber, Nightmare, the arena, all of it. Several possibilities passed through his mind, but the only real reason he was still alive was that he had been turned into a demon beast. Panic and fear shot through him, but then rational thought took over. If he was a demon beast, why could he remember all of these things? Why could he remember who he was? Nightmare destroyed the memories of those he changed. Besides, he didn't feel different, only exhausted, and Nightmare himself had said that he was too strong-willed to alter.

So he wasn't a demon beast. Then how could he possibly be alive? There wasn't any good explanation left. Just then, there was movement to his left and something purple came into view. He was suddenly eye to eye with the demon beast who was supposed to kill him. He realized that he was lying against something warm and that he wasn't cold at all. He realized that something extraordinary had happened. "You…saved me?" he asked quietly.

The demon beast was still looking at him, but he felt so tired. He closed his eyes. The blackness enveloped him and guided him to a place of rest.

* * *

She woke up, sore and weak. She lay still for a moment, recollecting. Then she raised her head and looked at the knight. He was still unconscious, but he had stopped bleeding and there was a little more color in his cheeks. Her face had stopped bleeding, too. She could feel the dried blood crusted all over it. She reached up and touched the wound. She winced at the sickening pain that followed. It didn't feel good, but she considered herself extremely lucky to have come out of that alive. She lowered her head and relaxed.

She knew that they shouldn't stay in one place for long. Nightmare's forces were looking for them. However, she didn't think that she was up for it and the knight was in no condition to be moved. She wanted to wait until he woke up first. Tonight was for recovery.

Her eyelid drooped over one tired, yellow eye. Her breath disturbed a few blades of grass. She closed her eye and sleep took her for just a while longer.

Later, she felt a bit better but she still didn't move. It took her some time to realize that the knight's breathing had quickened. She twisted her neck so that she could see him. His eyes were open, though somewhat unfocused. Her movement attracted his attention and he looked at her. She was once again trapped by his beautiful, golden eyes. "You…saved me?" When he spoke, it was amazing. She didn't know what to expect from him. She certainly hadn't expected gratitude. She had been trained to think of her enemies as meaningless beings, but there was so much more in reality.

He closed his eyes and slept. She turned away, worried. It was clear that he was confused and afraid, and she had no idea how to comfort him. He had presented a problem that she hadn't thought of. How would she communicate with him? Gestures weren't nearly enough. She needed words but she couldn't speak. Well, she would have to put this dilemma aside for now. She was too exhausted to think clearly. What she needed was to rest and heal. She sighed and went to sleep as well.

* * *

When he woke up again, he was alone. The extra sleep had done him some good. The fog had cleared from his mind and he felt somewhat better. It was morning and there were birds singing. The sun had half-risen into the sky.

He was propped up in a sitting position, his side leaning against a tree. He looked around. His mask, gloves, spaulders, and sword lay nearby in a pile. He searched for his cape and found it wrapped tightly around his waist and back. Whoever had rescued him had used it as a bandage. But who had saved him? How had he gotten out here in the middle of the forest? And had he dreamed up the part about the demon beast?

It would be a while before these questions could be answered. He was too weak to move more than a little bit, so he simply lay there, wondering and waiting for something to happen. Eventually, something did.

There was a loud rustle and then the demon beast emerged from the surrounding forest, its arms laden with fruit. It set down its load next to the pile of armor. Some of the old fear crept into him, but then the demon beast noticed that he was awake. It came over and crouched down beside him. He could see that it was covered with a multitude of scratches. There was a painful looking, three-clawed, slash wound on the left side of its face. Before he could notice more, the demon beast stood up and left, taking one of his spaulders with it.

It soon returned with the spaulder cupped in both hands. It walked over to him and sat down. The spaulder was filled with water. The demon beast brought it to his lips and gently tipped it so that he could drink. He hadn't realized just how thirsty he was until there was water to drink. The spaulder had to be refilled several times to slake his thirst. Then it went to prepare the fruit for him.

The demon beast's cuts had made it clear that it was his savior. But that was impossible! Demon beasts were mindless, blood-thirsty monsters whose only purpose was to destroy. He had lost their fight, and that meant death, so why had it spared him his life?

It occurred to him that the demon beast was thinking for itself. It was certainly clever using his cape as a bandage and his spaulder as a cup. And it was smart enough to sort through the fruit and pick out the ripe from the rotten. He was even beginning to feel bad about thinking of the dragon as an "it". But this had to be some sort of trick. Nightmare was just trying to deceive him into betraying the GSA. This couldn't possibly be real.

His thoughts were interrupted by the demon beast, who was holding out a peach to him. It was a struggle just to lift his hand and take it, and it trembled strongly when he did. He bit into it gratefully. It was deliciously sweet. When he was done, the demon beast took the pit from him and handed him another peach. He ate his fill of the fruit and felt much better now that he wasn't thirsty and hungry. He watched in surprise as the demon beast sniffed at a peach. It licked it with its forked tongue, then took a small bite out of it. It made a disgusted look and spat it out. He got the impression that it was wondering why he found peaches so edible. He couldn't help but smile to himself.

The demon beast's innocent curiosity helped to calm his tightly-strung nerves. It gave him enough courage to speak. "Thank you. For saving me. I can't figure out why you did it, but thanks." The demon beast stared at him for a moment, and then brought his armor over to him. "I-I don't feel comfortable thinking of you as an it. Can you tell me if you're male or female?" The demon beast nodded, indicating that he should go on. "Are you male?" It shook no. "Female?" She nodded yes. He found that rather unexpected. "Can you tell me how and why you did this?" She shook no again. "Can you speak?" No.

The demon beast gestured towards the forest, silently saying 'we need to go.' "What do you mean? I can't stand, let alone walk." She held out her arms. He didn't understand.

Instead of trying to tell him, she simply showed him. She started to clumsily put his armor on him. "What are you doing?" he asked, alarmed. She ignored him and strapped on the spaulders, slipped his gloves onto his hands, buckled on his sword, and placed the mask over his face. She left the cape where it was. Then she picked him up. He wanted to protest, but now he understood. Still, he resented being manhandled like this.

She walked through the forest all day with him reluctantly carried in her arms. She stopped for rest often and he could tell that she was almost as tired as he was. Once in a while, she gave him more food and water. One time she went by herself. He could see that she was reluctant to leave him alone. He wasn't going anywhere but something else could come along. When she came back, he asked her where she had gone and she put a hand to her stomach, meaning 'for food.' He figured that, since she was a demon beast, she must be carnivorous. She didn't want him to see her kill some poor creature.

As night fell, her breaks became longer and more frequent until she stopped traveling entirely. It was time to go to sleep. She took off his armor again. She laid down and put him next to her. She folded a wing over him, keeping him warm and safe. She fell asleep quickly.

It took a while for him to fall asleep. He felt so conflicted. On one side, his life was in the hands of a demon beast. It was likely that this was all an act. On the other hand, she had taken care of him all day. And she had actually acted human.

He didn't know what would happen next and he didn't know what had happened already. He closed his eyes and hoped that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.


	8. Chapter 8

The next few days passed in much the same way. He grew stronger as time passed, and he became more comfortable around the dragon. There were still lots of questions bouncing around in his mind, as she had yet to find a way to communicate with him. Though they were still a mystery to each other, she continued to bring him food and water. She hid him away when she went hunting, sometimes bringing back bits of her kills to cook for him. At night, he slept soundly under the canopy of her wing, her sharp senses on alert even when she slept. For the moment, he felt safe, and his only discomfort was having to wear his armor all the time.

The only exciting thing that happened was when a scouting demon beast had spotted them. Before it could fly away to alert Nightmare, she had put him down and killed the scout with a ferocity that he had not seen in her before. Another demon beast came out of the brush behind him and went after him. He jumped when it suddenly burst into flames. He found his dragon standing over him, fire pouring from her jaws. It was a reminder to him of what she was, but it also showed that she was more than willing to protect him. It frustrated him to feel so defenseless, but he knew that it would take time for him to recover completely.

One morning, he lay against her side, watching the sunlight make patterns on the forest floor. He usually woke up before her, but he didn't mind as it gave him time to think. Considering her strength, a thought occurred to him. It was possible that she had been trained as a mindbreaker, someone who could enter the minds of others and bend them to their will. Letting her into his mind would be a great sign of trust. He would only let her do so because she hadn't tried to already. He couldn't forget that she had saved his life more than once.

Excited, he prodded her awake. He told her of his idea and, trustingly, his worries and fears. She nodded, telling him that she had the power. She looked him in the eyes, trying to be reassuring, then tentatively reached out her mind to his. He flinched at the contact and instinctively threw up his mental shields. Beyond this point, he wouldn't be able to defend himself if she decided to betray him. He took a few deep breaths and slowly lowered his barriers.

Her consciousness was rich and surprisingly human, and, reading her inner feelings, he lost all fear. She hovered at the edge of his consciousness, respecting his privacy. The mental voice that answered his long-held questions was distinctly feminine. When he asked, she delved a little deeper to show him what she had done and her reasons for saving him. Awe and respect filled him at her deeds. He saw that she respected him too, her perception of him as a brave and strong warrior unaffected by his small size or current weakness.

She showed him her entire being, yearning for his trust and companionship. He sensed fear from her, fear that he didn't immediately understand. She had never expected her life to take this turn of events. She had been trained to be a killing machine, and she had never considered doing anything else. So far, she had been operating on instincts buried deep inside, but she didn't know what it was to be truly human. She was afraid of failing, of having this bright new future taken away from her. He was surprised to find that she needed his help, needed him to be a teacher and friend.

He felt that he understood her now, at least on a basic level. She was a living being as fully human as he was. Somehow, Nightmare had made a mistake and forgotten to erase her soul, a miracle in itself. She had always known that she was different from other demon beasts, but had never known why. As she began to withdraw, he said aloud, "My name is Meta Knight." The last thing he felt from her was a sudden pang of sadness. She turned her head away from him, staring blankly at the foliage. He knew from her memories that she had no real name of her own, and that took away from her sense of being. He gently laid a hand on her side and smiled. She didn't react at first, then slowly curled her long neck about him. He leaned against her, her smooth purple scales giving off warmth. They stayed like that for some time, until the traveling sun urged them to move once more.

* * *

Days turned into weeks. Meta Knight's strength grew slowly. He was able to walk for short periods of time, and, when he grew tired, he rode on his dragon's back, his arms around her neck, while she carried his armor and sword. She still hadn't figured out what to call herself. A name was very important to her, and she wanted to be sure of it. Though he knew that she wouldn't hurt him, the mental intrusions still left him feeling uncomfortable and violated. She never asked anything of him, and he tolerated it for the sake of communication. Despite that, they were steadily growing closer in their newly-found friendship.

A day came when he dressed in his armor and unsheathed his sword. He went through the forms that he had been taught in the GSA, clumsy from weakness and lack of practice. She watched him for a time, silently contemplating his strikes and blocks as he battled an imaginary enemy. She had done much the same in her own training. She suddenly stood up, causing him to pause as she came towards him. He shouted in surprise as her tail swung towards him, an unexpected attack that he barely managed to dodge. She attacked again and again and he grew afraid and confused. It was only when a blow that he was too slow to block missed that he realized that she was trying to spar with him. He then went on the offensive, forcing her to retreat a little.

They sparred for a while, her attacks always missing on purpose or stopping short, while he never managed to get a hit in. Eventually, he needed to rest and he gratefully collapsed against her warm side. Their conversation that night was brief. She apologized for startling him like that, though the point had been to surprise him. She laid there thinking while he drifted off to sleep. All of a sudden, she knew what she wanted to be called. She was excited and wanted to tell Meta Knight, but she let him sleep. It was something that could wait until morning. She laid her head down and closed her eyes, joy soaring through her with the revelation of a name.

* * *

Morning came soon enough. She woke up bright and early, her body thrumming with energy. For once, she had woken up before Meta Knight, but she would nevertheless wait for him to wake up. The tip of her tail was twitching with impatience and the corners of her mouth were turned up in a smile. At last, Meta Knight stretched and yawned, groggily rubbing his eyes. He blinked sleepily at her, then asked, "What are you so happy about?" She sat up and put two knuckles to the base of her throat, her signal to him that she wanted to talk with him. He nodded his permission, and was shocked awake by the sheer strength of her joy. "I know who I am," she said, her being bright with energy. "I am Bioshock." "Kind of an odd name isn't it?" he replied, surprised. She snorted loudly, not amused, and withdrew.

He patted her snout, her warm breathe flowing over his face. He couldn't help but be glad for her. Infected by her mood, a silly thought crept into his brain, and, once it was there, he couldn't help but carry it out. Smiling mischievously, he began to tickle her belly and underarms. Her jaws parted in surprise and she began to laugh. It was a strange huffing sound, one that was unique to her, coming out in short bursts. She wiggled playfully out of his grasp, and he laughed too. He pursued and endeavored to tickle every bit of her that he could reach. They rolled across the grass, their laughter mingling harmoniously. Finally, they came to a stop, struggling to breathe with tears rolling from their eyes.

Bioshock ended up on her back with Meta Knight sitting lightly on her chest. Reluctantly, they got up and prepared for the day's travel. They could relax a little, as Nightmare's chances of finding them dwindled every day. Neither of them forgot that they needed to get off of this planet, and neither had any idea of how that was going to happen. It didn't matter as long as they had hope. They lived on, happy for the moment.


	9. Chapter 9

**This chapter rated T+.**

* * *

Something was wrong. When Meta Knight had found an abandoned spaceship, his mood had abruptly changed. He was walking with a grim determination, and she followed, since he appeared to know where he was going. There was a rotten smell lingering in the air that she didn't like. Her instincts were prickling, and she stuck close to him, alert for danger. Their destination came in the form of a clearing, and the smell increased into an almost unbearable stench. Meta Knight stopped suddenly, a cry sticking in his throat.

She slowly emerged from the trees, not ready to meet the grisly scene. Armored skeletons lay scattered about the clearing, bits of rotten flesh still clinging to sun-bleached bones. Torn bedrolls and rusted weapons marked the signs of battle. She realized that these were the remains of Meta Knight's team. The sheer brutality of their deaths, plain to see in broken bones and cracked armor, sickened her. Beside her, Meta Knight gagged, his shoulders sagging. He stepped forward with lurching steps, clogged with emotion. Despair and sorrow creased his face and his tears flowed freely. He looked desperately around, searching, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to overtake him. He found who he was looking for and ran to the body. A beaded bracelet around the wrist identified her to him. "No Delphine, no," he whispered, kneeling beside her.

With a jolt, Bioshock realized that every one of these piles of bones had once been a living person, as real as Meta Knight was now. She had never once considered how fragile life was, how bright it was because of that. The strength of his grief had broken him, and he was weeping uncontrollably. She came over and knelt next to him, unsure of what to do. She knew that it wasn't good for him to be here, but he needed to say goodbye. Finally, she picked him up and brought him away from the evil place.

She stopped walking when they were out of range of the stench. She knew that he was grieving for his lost friends, but she couldn't understand the grief itself. There was nothing in her experience to fill the gap. She held Meta Knight close, unable to properly comfort him. She didn't like to see him like this, and love compelled her to reach out to his mind. She staggered with the fierce torrent of his grief, then pushed through it and made the mistake of trying to pull Meta Knight away from it. He retreated from the betrayal, shrinking into himself. "No, Meta Knight. Please! I'm sorry," she said, deeply concerned. Hurt and raw, he turned away. Her own tears dripped from her eyes. Angry at herself for hurting him, she began to withdraw.

The current of Meta Knight's emotions changed a little. He knew that she had meant no harm and had seen how lost she was. "Wait," he said. "It's ok." "I don't understand, Meta Knight. Please help me," she responded, stricken. He relaxed and allowed memories of his friends to flow forth. They were more than his friends; they were his family. He had never had any parents, and the GSA had taken him in and helped him to realize his potential. He had fallen in love with a beautiful woman named Delphine. She was a gentle Kirbite who had always looked out for others. He remembered the swish of her emerald cape, the bright chime of her laughter, the way her golden skin accentuated her ruby eyes, the way she blushed when they kissed. He had been planning to ask for her hand in marriage when they got back from this mission. He had never gotten to tell her how much he cared about her, and now she was gone forever. His renewed grief almost overwhelmed them both.

Bioshock now understood the nature of his emotions, that it was good to cry and let some of the pain out. She was sorry that she had forced him to bring up such painful things. He wasn't done, though. He knew that she needed to know what it was to be human, and forgave her. He wanted her to know what she meant to him, and the full impact of what she had done for him. She got the notion that Meta Knight was going to show her what had happened before everything faded to black.


	10. Chapter 10

Dovah handed him a generous hunk of bread, and he smiled in response. Around him were the nine other members of his team. They were sitting on their bedrolls, talking quietly while they ate a meager dinner. Their ships were hidden carefully throughout the surrounding woods. Their mission was to scout out Nightmare's newest fortress, and so far they had successfully kept their cover. Dovah and Kimli had been able to get quite close to the building, though they hadn't been able to see much of anything.

He blushed a little as Delphine sat down next to him. Her smile dazzled him and made his heart rate increase. He turned away shyly. She giggled and touched his shoulder. Caught by her eyes, he sighed and smiled dreamily. They ate together in shy silence, enjoying each other's company. Kimli broke the passionate tension by calling the group together. The team gathered, putting their masks back on after eating. He discussed the plan for the next day, assigning each person a specific task. They all counted on each other, their trust born from their family-like ties. The meeting came to an end an hour or so later.

The night was already deepening around them. They moved a short distance away in order to have a little privacy. Dovah marked where they were going, smiling knowingly. They settled in a little grassy knoll, slipping off their masks. He looked at Delphine and she cupped his cheek in her hand, her bracelet rattling a little. He reached out and did the same. They leaned in and kissed each other. For a moment, all thoughts of war were gone, lost in blissful love. It ended too soon, the currents of their emotions lingering. They turned and leaned on each other in such a way that, although their cheeks were pressed together, they could still look deeply into each other's eyes. They watched the sun drift lower into the trees, and soon the first stars were winking in the sky. They headed back before it got too dark.

Most of the others were already in bed, the first night guard already on her shift. They parted reluctantly and went to their bedrolls, reattaching their masks before sliding under the covers. Delphine slept barely a foot away from him, her gentle breathing indicating that she was already asleep. He was uncomfortable, his armor pressing a little too sharply into his side. They always had to sleep in their armor on dangerous missions like this one, with weapons always within reach. As Sir Arthur always preached, it was best to be prepared. Staring up at the stars, he felt a strange foreboding feeling that he couldn't quite identify. Finally, he quieted his thoughts and rolled over to face Delphine. He fell asleep watching her chest gently rise and fall.

* * *

He woke, his heart beating rapidly. The premonition he had felt earlier had grown very strong. He sat up, grasping for his sword. He sat there for several minutes, alert for any strange sound or movement. The dire feeling didn't leave him. He got up and woke Halik, the leader of the group. "What is it, Meta Knight?" he asked tiredly. "I don't know, Sir. I have a bad feeling, and it won't go away. Something is about to happen," he replied, trying unsuccessfully to explain himself. Halik snorted and said, "It's just your nerves. Go get some sleep." Halik rolled over, dismissing him. He stood there for a moment longer before he went back to his place. He knew that there was more to it than that.

He lay wrapped in his blankets, still on the alert. He knew that he wouldn't be able to fall asleep now, nor did he think it wise to do so. He couldn't argue with Halik, no matter his intuition. Halik was his commander, and he had to obey orders.

He started, ready for action. He had heard a distant rustling, but he didn't know what it was yet. He heard it again, but closer. He moved to wake his fellows, but instead abruptly changed directions and jumped away from the forest. A massive clawed paw hit the ground where he had just been, the sharp claws gouging the earth. The monster it belonged to roared sonorously before attacking again. He blocked the attack with his sword, and then darted in and pulled Delphine away from the danger. He chanced a quick glance and found that the night guard had been slaughtered.

The rest of the group was already at arms, fighting with the demon beasts that surrounded them. He and Delphine fought together as one. They all fought bravely, but no matter how many they destroyed, there was always another to take its place. Despair filled him as, one by one, his family was cut down around him. They were the only ones left now, and they were glad that they could die together. Now they were completely surrounded, fighting back to back. He felt her tiring beside him, and he fought all the harder.

Suddenly, his sword went spinning through the air away from him, and he found himself weaponless. Delphine gasped and he knew that she had been disarmed as well. They pressed against each other, hand in hand, locked in a brief moment of peace and love. They closed their eyes, waiting for the end to come. They were wrenched roughly away from each other, their hands forced behind their backs. Cold settled in his heart at the realization that they had been captured, a darker fate than simple death in battle.

The demon beasts stripped them of their armor and lined them up in front of their leader. The furred wolf monster that had attacked first turned to the leader and asked in a hissing voice, "Which one do we take? Master said that we are to bring him the strongest." He looked at Delphine, alarmed, shuddering at the helplessness in her eyes. "Silence, Wolfwrath. I will choose," said the leader, scrutinizing them with narrowed eyes. "Hmm. I like the looks of the blue one. Dispose of the other." His breath caught in his throat, and he struggled against his captor. He saw the flash of fear in Delphine's eyes just before the wolf's claws pierced her chest, sprouting out of her back coated in crimson. She collapsed to the ground, her life pouring from her, the pallor of death already glazing over her ruby eyes.

He yelled and fought with all his might, crying her name again and again. He wanted to go to her, to hold her and kiss her cheek, to tell her that he loved her. His tears told him that she was gone. The demon beasts beat him into submission. They gagged him and immobilized his hands. He consigned himself to his fate, shock and loss making him quiet and unresponsive. He didn't care what they thought of him; he let his tears flow freely.

Then the steady march back to the base began. He was forced to walk between them, ruthlessly pushed beyond his limits. He marched silently, his body aching with hurt and loss. The image of the pain written on her face as she died haunted him. He wanted to believe that this was a dream, that he could wake up and have her comfort him, but he knew that it wasn't and he knew he was doomed. His only solace was that she wouldn't have to suffer with him. He was glad that they had chosen him, that she was spared the horrendous torture that was sure to come. Whatever happened, he would be strong for her and his family.

The journey back to Nightmare's fortress took a couple of days. During that time, he was given neither food nor water, and was rarely allowed to rest. He was verbally and physically abused constantly. By the time they got there, he was close to collapsing. The sight of the immense gray building filled him with dread. It was surrounded by an impenetrable stone wall, making escape on foot impossible. The demon beasts ushered him through a solid iron gate. It closed behind him with a clang of finality.

Inside he was escorted through a maze of hallways and chambers. The dark stains on the walls were not very encouraging. They reached a dark room containing a couple of jail cells. It stank of decay and cold, and a single, dim light bulb was the only source of light. His bindings were removed and he was thrust into a cell. He watched sullenly as they locked the door, turned off the light, and left him alone in complete darkness. He retreated into a corner and rested, trying not to let his exhaustion lull him into sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Voices woke him. He didn't know where he was for a moment, but it soon dawned on him. He closed his eyes and hugged himself, dangerously close to tears. He briefly felt ashamed, for he hadn't been able to stay awake for very long. The voices outside the room caught his attention and he listened attentively. One voice was a hissing, rasping whisper, hard to decipher at this distance. The other voice was so cold, so malevolent, that it sent chills down his spine. "Oh, but we must take good care of our guest," it was saying. He sat up; they were talking about him. "Make sure he gets food and water," it continued. "He must have rest or he won't survive long enough."

That was all, and he heard footsteps walking away. He began to shiver and couldn't stop. The dark voice had struck home that he didn't have long to live. He knew that his death wouldn't be quick, and that he would suffer for a long time before it finally came. He shook violently as mortal terror engulfed him. He was so utterly helpless, felt so frighteningly fragile, that it hurt. He knew that he was nothing but a toy to them, something to play with and throw away when it was broken.

He thought about Delphine and his partners, grateful that it had been mercifully fast for them. He thought about how no one would hear from them again, how quietly they were snuffed out, how easy it was to tear through such bonds of love. He wished that Arthur had chosen someone else for this mission. He knew it was selfish to think that, knew that those people would have suffered the same fate, but he couldn't help the way that he felt. He thought about Delphine, how much he had loved her and still did, how he had wanted to marry her and have kids, how they would never see freedom from Nightmare's tyranny. He thought about how he would be gone forever, cast into an eternal night.

He thought for a long time, trapped in an agonizing cycle of painful realities. He recognized that he was slowly losing his sanity. He briefly wondered what it would be like to go insane before he recovered and focused on one thing: Delphine. He brought up sweet memories of her and allowed himself to forget everything else and pretend he was somewhere else. He calmed down, his body relaxing and ceasing to shake. No matter the pain that might come, he would be with her in the end. He would simply have to endure. He would fight for the bright memory of her. He would display his own spirit for them, would show them that he deserved to exist. In his final moments, he was determined to shine like the sun.

Fire rose in him, but the world pressed in upon him. Locked in the dark he struggled against the fear and despair that threatened to destroy him.

* * *

It was light that woke him up the next time. Someone had switched on the dim bulb that hung from the ceiling. He raised a hand against the light until his eyes adjusted. The shape outside materialized into a demon beast. It was the wolf beast that had killed Delphine, the one called Wolfwrath. It sneered at him before pushing a tray through a small slot in the bars. He had to rush to catch it before it crashed to the floor. The beast laughed condescendingly at him, making him feel small. He had just gingerly set the tray down when the wolf thrust its claws through the bars. He scuttled backwards, wide-eyed and breathing hard, the deadly claws just inches from his face. They were coated in dried blood, her blood. Wolfwrath laughed all the harder, its yellow teeth glinting as it withdrew from the room.

He remained frozen where he was. It seemed that Nightmare was going to subtly torture him with this last link to the one that he had loved the most. He had no doubt that Nightmare was here. This was his newest fortress, and there was good reason to believe that he was here to oversee operations. His team had known that when they had agreed to undertake this mission, foolishly daring to come close anyway.

He struggled to unlock his muscles, succeeding only with will. He glanced over at the tray and saw that there was only moldy bread and a cup of stagnant-looking water. He went to the front wall of the cell and peered out. Even with the light, he couldn't see the far corners of the room. Still, he thought that he was the only occupant of the jail cells. He stayed there for a moment longer, his hands grasping rusty bars with his forehead resting against the iron. He sighed heavily, wishing that he wasn't so alone but also not wanting anyone else to suffer as well.

He turned around and inspected the rest of his cage. He saw that the other three walls of his small square were solid concrete. He had already known that from touch. He went back to his corner and set the tray on his lap. The bread wasn't as moldy as he had thought it was, but a good deal of it was still spotted with green. He picked up the cup of water and sniffed at it. He didn't smell anything, but that didn't mean that it wasn't laced with something. It would be harder to resist if his mind was clouded. He placed the tray beside him and curled against the wall, resigned not to eat the unfit meal. He was going to have a hard time of it, as the long march here had left him terribly hungry and parched.

About an hour or so later, his body forced him to give in. He picked up the bread, eying it distastefully. It was hard and salty, and he gagged on the terrible taste. He forced it all down, knowing that he was unlikely to receive better. He had no choice now but to drink the water, as the salty bread had left his mouth and throat even dryer that before. He downed it all in one go, thankful even though it was lukewarm and a little dirty.

Barely a few moments after he put the cup down, Wolfwrath burst into the room, clumsily carrying two more cups of water in its clawed paws. The rapidity of the response confirmed his suspicion that he was being closely watched. Without warning, the wolf threw the contents of a cup in his face, dousing him and making him yelp. It snickered at him cruelly before passing the other cup between the bars. He took it grudgingly and drank without hesitation, staring at the beast angrily.

He didn't care if it was drugged. He needed to drink and suspected that nothing more was going to happen to him just yet. He eyed the demon beast warily as he placed the extra cup on the tray and pushed it through the slot. He wisely backed away to where the wolf couldn't reach him. It narrowed its eyes before it turned to leave. It stopped to turn off the light on its way out, leaving him alone and shivering in the dark once more.


	12. Chapter 12

**This chapter rated M.**

* * *

He didn't know how much time had passed. It could have been days, weeks even, though it felt like an eternity either way. Time stood still in the dark, with no indication of morning or night. The only time the light was turned on was when Wolfwrath brought him his meals. It was never better than spoiled food and unclean water. The demon beast took every opportunity to torment him. It had figured out his relationship to Delphine, and constantly taunted him by calling her a whore and other such names. He always flew into a rage at this, and was hard pressed to resist the beast's taunts. All he could do was sit in a corner and simmer helplessly.

It was torture in itself to only be able to wait and wait and wait. He was wearing down very quickly, with his mind left to its own devices. All he could contemplate was his own death and the moments leading up to it. How would he be killed? Would it be some form of execution or a fight to the death? How painful would it be, and how long would the pain last? What if Nightmare tried to turn him into a demon beast? Dying was far more desirable. But what if Nightmare stole his soul? Even in death, he could belong to the worst monster alive.

Trapped in darkness, he couldn't help but think such morbid thoughts. He felt suffocated, and sometimes wondered if he was dead already. This was certainly a form of hell. The expectation of something, anything, was slowly driving him crazy. He was rapidly losing weight, his face becoming gaunt. He would often pace around his cell, feeling for weaknesses in the walls but not expecting to find any. There would be nothing on the other side anyway. He slept constantly, and he almost always had horrific nightmares about dying. The worst was dreaming that he had become a demon beast, and was killing his remaining friends back home. He wondered if Nightmare was influencing his thoughts, driving away any good dreams that would allow him to sleep soundly. His mind was loosening, little by little.

Finally, the time came when he was taken out of his cell and dragged to a torture room. It was almost a relief for him, even as he eyed the deadly instruments scattered about the room. A demon beast held onto his shoulders to prevent him from going anywhere, though he didn't see the point since he wasn't going to try anyway. He had long ago accepted his fate, had even looked forward to it. Even now, they kept him waiting, and the more time that passed, the more afraid he grew. Terror crept in and he began to tremble and sweat. He apprehensively considered each torture method and thought about which ones were likely to be the most painful.

He swallowed dryly, trying to stave off his fear. As a knight of the GSA, it was his final duty to withhold any information that Nightmare tried to wrestle from him. No matter how much they tortured him, he must stay strong and keep silent. He must protect those brave warriors who were fighting so hard to preserve the freedom of innocent people everywhere.

That was part of the reason for his fear. His body was weak from lack of proper nutrition and exercise. Certainly, he would be tortured. If the pain was too great, he might give in to them. He would rather die than stop fighting, but his body could only take so much. What was even more worrying was the condition of his mind. He was close to insanity, and he didn't know how long he could hold off a mental attack. If Nightmare got in, he would have access to every single memory of his life. Even worse, Nightmare could control him from the inside and force him to go against his every moral. He felt better now that he was out of the cage, but they had successfully weakened his mind and he knew it.

He steeled himself, hardening his heart and his thoughts. He was directed to a set of suspended chains. He was lifted to them and left to hang, his wrists locked into leather cuffs. He struggled briefly against gravity before two more cuffs were locked around his ankles, preventing him from swinging. His heart fluttered with panic and his stomach churned in fear. He thought he might throw up.

Looking at the leather, it came to him that this was not where he was going to die. He marveled that he hadn't seen this earlier. Nightmare had asked for the strongest warrior, and he was the one they had chosen. They weren't just going to milk him for information. They were going to make him fight. The leather cuffs were to prevent him from hurting his wrists or feet, so that he could still maneuver and wield a sword. The realization helped him a tiny bit. Death was one less thing to be afraid of now, but pain was still forthcoming.

He closed his eyes and thought about everything he had managed to accomplish in his young life. He had done a lot of good things, and felt that he had been a good person. Warm pride counteracted his fear. Now, he had to be strong, for himself and for everyone whom he had cared about and who cared about him. When he was knighted, he had sworn to protect the innocent, even if it meant giving his life for them. It was his sworn duty to fight until his last breath. Determination and loyalty filled him. He was ready for this final test.

A demon beast behind him asked him a question. He purposefully blocked out the meaning of the crudely said words, and didn't respond in any way. It said a few other things before it fell silent. He didn't understand why it left him alone until he began to feel the strain on his body. He was fastened in such a way that he could find no purchase against gravity. The downward force pulled strongly at his arms and shoulders. The strain rapidly grew stronger as time dragged on, increasingly becoming more and more painful. He tried to struggle, to change position, but was almost completely immobilized. He whimpered as it became unbearable, his back muscles trembling violently.

The demon beast loudly demanded that he answer its questions. He clenched his jaw shut, breathing hard with the effort to stay quiet. He heard it move closer and saw a glint of steel out of the corner of his eye; a knife. It hissed in his ear, saying, "Expose your wings." He knew that if he did, the delicate membrane of his bat wings would be shredded apart. His ability to fly was one of the few things he enjoyed and was proud to have, and he wasn't going to give it up. He shook his head, and felt the cold edge of the blade against his back. It cut through him easily, leaving behind a line of red hot fire. He groaned and jerked, but managed to hold his tongue. The demon beast cut into him a few more times, trying to force his wings out of the pockets of flesh that held them. It asked a question before each cut, and still he refused to answer, no matter the pain.

It stopped before his muscles became damaged beyond use. Between the fiery pain of the knife and the shrieking of his shoulders, he was halfway into a state of delirium. He vaguely noticed the drains set into the floor that were sucking up his blood. He suddenly felt a sharp pressure on his mind and was almost too slow to throw up flimsy shields. They cracked and almost broke with the first strike. He knew that he had to do something or give in. He focused his pain and threw it at his attacker. The demon beast recoiled and tried again, to no avail. It had unknowingly given him his only weapon. It made a few more attempts before giving up. He was glad that he had been able to protect this last sanctuary.

His relief was short lived as he was assaulted again a few moments later. A gigantic black shadow fell across his mind, and he knew immediately that it was Nightmare. It pressed heavily on his defenses, expertly searching for a crack to wiggle through. He tried redirecting his pain again, but it was nothing but a pin prick to the Lord of Darkness. Panic enveloped him and further weakened his defenses. He screamed as he began to break under the brutal pressure. He writhed wildly in his bonds, his mental shields cracking and insanity beginning to creep in.

His training came back to him. Focusing, he went slack and calmed down, denying fear and panic. He thought of Delphine, and let his emotions take over. A beautiful mixture of pure love and sweet sadness became his shield. He recalled love and kindness, thought of the good things in his life, remembered the moments he was lucky to have experienced. Nightmare weakened, unable to be near such pure thoughts. With a monumental heave, he pushed against the cloud and forced it out of his mind.

He returned to himself, aware of how close he'd come to destruction. His shields had been seconds away from breaking when he recovered. He felt good, knowing that he was strong enough to save himself. He opened his eyes, breathing heavily. His entire body was shaking with exertion. Sweat dripped from every pore, stinging in the wounds on his back. He moaned as the pain came back, and he desperately wished that he could rest his aching muscles.

Behind him, the demon beast snarled in frustration. It came and stood in front of him. It was holding a long strip of corded black leather. Flickers of blue light ran visibly through the fibers. He paled, knowing what the weapon was. It was an electric whip, designed to send pain through every nerve of his body. The demon beast smiled and forced him to drink a bitter, oily tonic. It gagged him so that he wouldn't bite off his tongue. He gathered that the substance was to prevent the electricity from damaging his muscles. He knew that it wouldn't do anything to dull the pain. The demon beast waited a moment to let the potion take effect, then stepped behind him, uncoiling the whip. He forced his body to relax and slouched in his bonds. It would hurt all the more if he was tense.

He took a deep breath. He heard the crack of the whip, and then everything was gone. There was pain and only pain, jolting through him again and again. It faded, leaving his muscles to spasm without control. Another strike came, locking him in the folds of pain once more. The demon beast swung the whip again and again. The pain paralyzed him, leaving him unable to scream, to struggle, to even think. In a dark corner of his mind, he knew he was being punished. Nightmare would be foolish to attack him in this oblivion.

He almost passed out a few times. The demon beast stopped for a moment to prevent him from escaping consciousness, then continued to whip him. There was no end in sight, no relief. His muscles spasmed, his breathing shallow and halted. He began to wish that one of the shocks would stop his heart. For a long time, he lived as a being of pure feeling.

He woke up alone, in the dark. His entire body ached fiercely, and he moaned. He knew what had happened to him, the torture he had endured. At some point during the whipping, his mind had simply quit and he had lost a large period of time to nothingness. If Nightmare had wanted to, he could have risked his unconscious mind and taken over. It didn't appear that that was the case, and it was a huge relief. If it had happened, there was no need to feel guilty as he could have done nothing to prevent it.

He tried to move and immediately regretted it. Pain lanced up his back and didn't fade for several minutes. He focused only on breathing through it. He experimentally wiggled his fingers. His hand worked as it should, though there was a dark bruise around his wrist. He could feel something on his back, but didn't dare to reach behind and touch. He felt cold; he had lost a lot of blood. Some of his injuries were still bleeding a little.

He slept on and off. Thankfully, his sleep was devoid of dreams. When he woke, he didn't move and only thought. He relived his life, remembering his time in the GSA. He also remembered the deaths of his teammates, his family, his loved one. He remembered what he had endured, and felt proud that he hadn't given in.

This was the end. There would be no more good times, nor bad. He knew that the only thing left to do was keep his earlier promise to himself. This was the last time he would lay here in this cell, though it was only the second to last time he would be trapped in darkness. All he had to do was fight one last time. He was a knight, and he was proud to die that way.

Time passed imperceptibly. He conserved his strength, remaining impassive. Everything felt right with the world. Soon, he could be with Delphine again. Soon, he wouldn't have to suffer anymore. The bright spark of emotion that had saved him burned within him. He didn't have to be afraid. There was no reason to be. Whatever monster was meant to kill him, he would show it what it was to truly live.

He slept, at peace. The creaking of the door signaled his time.


End file.
